More than a Right

Related image


Free speech is life.

Allow me to elaborate.

Breathing is not considered a right.

It’s not considered in the same category as rights, privileges, and all the myriad distinctions thereof.

No. Even prisoners and slaves are unquestionably reserved the right to draw air. Certainly, a hair-splitter might say ah but they are killed!

Yes, sometimes but until the point of termination, no one rations their air…sets restrictions on it…how much to inhale…how much to exhale…and where such a thing is appropriate.

Throughout our lifetimes we adopt and abdicate many a position. In so doing we exhale and inhale ideas. If it is bizarre to assume restriction on literal respiration why is it any less bizarre to restrict intellectual respiration?

Yes. But breathing and speaking are two different things. You don’t need to speak to live. I disagree. We are a social species. Our very existence depends on interaction.

Ok. But its only a certain sort of speaking that is absolutely essential. Why should we let fascists, and bigots, and all kinds of meanies be mean?

Throughout our lifetiems, we adopt and abdicate many a position. Its important to allow this to take place naturally. You will gain very little in the way of reforming someone’s position by telling them to shut up. Even less so with the might of the state behind you.

People often say erroneous and heinous things. But we cannot know the intent with certainty. Even when the certainty of intent is almost certainly established we cannot penalize someone for intellectual respiration. This somewhat foppish metaphor I’ve adopted has its merits. It is used because throughout our lifetimes we adopt and abdicate many a position.
Speaking is popularly considered unproductive. Busy people use terse language and do busy things like profit handsomely from exporting manufacturing to exotic locations with charmingly lax labor laws. But even these humanitarians need to speak to do so. In fact, the assembly of ideas into an actionable coherency is speech whether or not it is externalized as air passing over the vocal chords.

When people mull a problem they often mutter under their breaths. This is because they are breathing in and out ideas. They are engaging in something that is more than a right. They are engaging in intellectual respiration.

Many people say things they don’t mean. They’re exhaling bad air. Should an accident of fraught nerves be grounds for prosecution? Again even if the intent of malice is clear there is no guarantee that the expression of an offensive and wrongheaded notion isn’t entirely or at leas in part representative of a misapprehension of the offendee.
Exhaling an idea is an inextricable part of processing that idea. Those who do so may process the idea entirely out of their being. It is not our business to force their breathing. You don’t do CPR on someone merely because they have a cough.

Let people be let people breathe.

But what if they shout fire in a theater? There is a difference between libel and speech. If you accuse the theater of being on fire when it clearly isn’t…I’m of course joking but I think this defense still holds.

Let people be let people breathe.

Anyone that’s around the age of thirty is likely well aware of the distance between the ideas and politics of their early twenties and their present outlook.
Should you have been throttled for thinking skinny jeans were cool?

Well, perhaps so. But then you have become the bully you wish to resist.


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Murica Month – The Art of Citizenship (Vlog)


In which I discuss the merits of preparedness and briefly point to the need to understand that history is ever painted in myriad shades of grey.

 

The book in question: http://www.simonandschuster.com/books/1776/David-McCullough/9780743226721


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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 5.1 – Parlour Tricks

Image result for victorian parlour piano


The city was surprisingly modern. It had a mildly southwestern vibe. Which I suppose made sense because it was in the southwest. But what I mean is that there was a bit of cowboy culture in Cuiaba. With many shops devoted to riding gear and boots.

The cattle industry was huge. The chief driver of the economy being agriculture the cowboy thing was only natural. Still, as I’d never been in Brazil before I suppose that I expected something a bit more Bossa Nova.

These were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I lay in my hotel room. The heavy meal tethering me to the bed. American TV was available but I really was in no state to watch anything besides the ceiling tile.

So I let my mind wander.

Fernando Cook was a stocky man with broad shoulders who moved with a certain tanklike determination. His close cut hair alternated between grey and jetty black which when coupled with a pair of glasses gave him a distinguished look that was at odds with his pugilistic bearing.

We were doomed to be surrounded by anthropologists. He was one of the best. It was his expertise and connections with the natives that would guide us out of the Pantanal and into the depths of a verdant hell that had swallowed men far hardier.

It was a thought that was simultaneously reassuring and unnerving. Which had a nullifying effect. I felt sort of Zen drifting between concern and confidence. A certain nervous Coincidentia Oppositorum that produced a soporific state.

I was soon asleep.

I awoke with the strong sensation to urinate. Though instead of hotel carpet my bare foot touched a cold wooden floor.

“Damn it all,” I said in a stentorian tone that was not at all my own as I lit a gas lamp that revealed heavy oaken furniture.

I pulled a brass pot from beneath the bed. Which to my disgust was full of the very liquid I wished to void.

Well, Henry does need the rest.’ I thought as I longed for assistance.

I couldn’t really afford him anymore. Living in this style may have been feasible when demand for wool was what it was in my father’s time but the blasted colonials had been exporting that devil cotton and…

I sighed and studied the position of the moon. Surmising that the hour was late I cast open the window and poured the offal onto the fog-drenched roses below my quarters.

After I relieved myself my thoughts turned to affairs a touch grimmer than biological impulse. My quarters…? Whatever name may be on the deed…is of little consequence when the owner is a penniless eccentric.

I let the biting cold drift in from the moors. It was punishment. A sort of purgative that I inflicted upon myself as penance. For all the excess and seeking after that had supplanted the industry that was my duty as scion.

I felt incredibly tired. Drained…I cradled my head in my hands…and despite the merciless cold felt myself disappearing into a deep dreamless sleep. The only escape that sweet nepenthe…

I would have had it too had it not been for that cry.

It was terrible. Forlorn, imploring, and utterly mad. It made me jolt my head with such a start that I thought I’d severed my neck.

I ran to the door. Then caution overtook me. It was with stealth that I produced the Webley from the bedside table.

I stole from my room, crept down the hall, and peered at the parlor below the mezzanine. There was nothing there.

“Psst…” I wheeled round bringing the revolver to bear on a freckled face whose pallor was wraithlike in the glow of the moon.

“Put that away Roderick…my god but you are a coward…”

It was Betty. Still acerbic even in the midst of crisis.

“Blast it all Beatrice…” I hissed. “I could have shot all those darling little sunspots clean off your bloody mug.”

“Oh, darling are they? So where was all this darling business when I…”

“Not now Betty…”

“You treat me like a servant.”

“You are a servant.”

“I’m a barkeep, not a servant…”

Aside from our inappropriately puerile conversation, nothing could be heard. The house was deathly silent.

“Do you hear that?” I asked.

“What!?”

“It’s silent.”

Her large green eyes lost their masterful sarcasm and advertised fear.

‘Good.’ I thought. She really was impetuous. I’d nearly killed her just now and if she didn’t stow that tomboy nonsense whatever was in the parlor may well do just that.

I’d worried for a long time now about security. The house had thirteen bedrooms, a library, a parlor, a kitchen. There were servants quarters on the grounds. These now that Henry and Sarah had left for Surrey stood empty. All of this was my doing. People may bear with much for fealty’s sake but one cannot eat fealty.

There were three of us in the house. Jones, myself, and Beatrice. And I very much doubted that I was her first suitor. The province was small and word of the isolation of Roderick Hamilton would travel fast.

“Don’t look at me like that Rod…don’t…”

“If this is one of yours…I’ll kill him…” I said coldly.

“O….” she said tossing her head and bulging her eyes in a mocking expression. “Now he’s jealous…”

“I’ll kill him,” I repeated.

“It’s not one of mine. I told you…that’s done with…for ages now…”

I shot her a look.

“You never believe me…why do you never believe me…its horrid…what what have I done to you…you’re the one who said all those things and promised all those things and where are you…all you have is your mate and you strange games…you’re not a gentleman at all….”

“Well, yes.” I said. “Yes, I’m a failure…yes…alright..fine… but I’ll be damned if I’ll be called a coward. Do you know what a trench smells like?”

“What…”

“Just stay there…or you’ll end up like Charlie. You fancy that? Shrieking like a banshee with a bit of skull swinging on a flap of skin?”

She started to complain again but I bit her ear. Gently of course. This was our little secret.

“Get back to your room or I’ll drag you back.”

“Is this it…is this what gets you frisky?”

“Now…” I hissed as I picked her up. For all her fire she was a petite little thing.

She sighed as she rested her head on my shoulder. “The things it takes for you to be a man.”

I had no time for this. I tossed her on her bed and made my way down the stairs. Why the hell did I humor her? I probably just killed Jones with this delay. I truly am worthless.

Peering into the eerie darkness I distinguished nothing. There were the chairs, the table, the piano and the cupboard. There were no occupants.

I was really at a loss as to what to do. Surely the cry had come from here and it had sounded exactly like Jones.

I lingered at the threshold deliberating for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe I was a coward.

It was then that I heard a low groan.

This directed my attention to the thing long limb. It was Jone’s arm.

I decided on surprise. I discharged my weapon into the couch.

“Surrender!” I shouted as I swept the room. Then I ran back and swept the whole lower floor. Being sure to discharge only two more rounds while yelling that I’d summoned the police.

Finally, frantically I ran back into the parlor and lit the lamps.

“Jones….Jones…Freddy…my man…what happened….”

He was laying behind his favorite easy chair with a book covering his face. There was no blood, there was no sign of struggle, he just lay there muttering and groaning weakly.

I poured a whiskey and sat him up.

“Here, drink you loon.”

The spirit returned what color could be said to naturally inhibit those thin pale cheeks. His grey eyes locked onto mine.

“They’re not angels Roderick…they’re not angels…” he coughed.

“What the devil are you talking about…”

“I don’t even know if that’s what they are..devils that is…no I don’t know what they are…but they’re horrible…”

“What! Who!”

But I knew what he was talking about even before I saw the shewstone clasped frantically in his hand.

I felt wet, shock, and surprise.

I woke up in a very soft comfortable bed with cheesy eighties themed wallpaper and an HD TV.

I was soaked and there was something red on my chest.

As I picked it up I realized it was part of a balloon.

“Oh, god damn it Sam…!”



Part I – Kentucky Door

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

3.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.8 – A Good Egg

3.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.9 – Oregon HillThe Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera_

3.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.10 – ‘Thick Bushes’

4.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.0 – No room at the Inn

4.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.1 – The Union Jack

4.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.2 – The Genevive

4.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.3 – Ecclesiastes 1:18

4.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.4 – Bleached

4.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.5 – Marty

4.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.6 – Highland Deep

4.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.7 – Sunshine

4.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.8 – What is it?

4.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera

4.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.10 – Father Crespi

4.11 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.11 – Why this?

Part II – The Wizard’s Nod

5.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 5.0 – Thurible


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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 5.0 – Thurible

The Sketch of Sam Monroe

– Part Two –

The Wizard’s Nod


Image result for thurible


Once you got there. It was believable. The green hell was overwhelming. It enveloped like swaddling cloth. This green cradle was ever on the verge of smothering its children with maternal overabundance. The liquid air whose lackadaisical stirring swayed palms, ceibas, the whole ark of creation. This air felt like a sloppy overeager kiss. Yes, I believed it.

This is where we were born. This is where our cities were born. Here were all the combustible elements needed for launch. The fuel that propelled a thousand ships, like seeds upon primeval air, to land in Egypt, Greece, Babylon, and Thule. From such ground they’d flourish till the blossoms withered.

What we have been collecting, collating, and binding are but febrile petals. A gossamer chaff. It was better than nothing and so a commendable pursuit. But there were other ways other methods.

And I imagine that’s why we were here. We were here to meet the dreamers. Those who can trace the ruins of Babel and make it stand as it once did.

There was an element of eschatology to P.LA.T.O. Yes, of course, behavior modification was the primary objective but…one must know which behavior to modify. The etiology of extinction…

I understood all this as we thumped along the knotty boards protruding from a river of might beyond all reckoning. It was mystic. I felt awash in profundity as her aroma lilted up from beneath and all around like some hoary Thurible.

My spiritual zeal was quickly shattered by the scent of Feijoada. The natural, sensible man, returned as our solemn track ended and we were met with the clatter of plates and chattering voices.

“Ah, Senhor Bohm! I am so happy to see you again!” A tall pretty girl in her early twenties ran up from behind the counter and threw her arms around Leo.

Sam started humming. Then Chuck caught on. Soon there was a chorus.

“Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking….”

She released our guide and turned to regard us with dark, exuberant eyes, that sparkled with tranquil curiosity. There was some Portuguese exchanged.

“Ah, so you are fans of Tom Jobim?” She inquired with only the slightest tinge of accent.

“I’m a fan of you,” Sam said with the characteristic overenthusiasm that he somehow managed to make charming.

“Great, now I have to worry about disappointing my fans.” She replied playfully.

“No chance of that…” Sam said with an over-dramatized expression of wistfulness.

“Your friends are funny Leo.” She laughed. “Are they the ones who are here to see uncle?”

“Si. That one there,” he said pointing at Graham. “Is a Hoyt.”

Her face grew solemn as she looked at the pale, thin, towering, barrister faced cipher that had once been the fair-haired favorite of venues from Nashville to LA.

There was some more muttering in Portuguese though this time it was dark. But she seemed to be one of those wonderfully buoyant types whose effervescence wouldn’t disappear for long.

“Well, I suppose that even if ghosts are real, they still need to eat. Vamos!”


1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

3.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.8 – A Good Egg

3.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.9 – Oregon HillThe Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera_

3.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.10 – ‘Thick Bushes’

4.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.0 – No room at the Inn

4.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.1 – The Union Jack

4.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.2 – The Genevive

4.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.3 – Ecclesiastes 1:18

4.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.4 – Bleached

4.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.5 – Marty

4.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.6 – Highland Deep

4.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.7 – Sunshine

4.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.8 – What is it?

4.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera

4.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.10 – Father Crespi

4.11 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.11 – Why this?


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Miles From October (Super Rough Song Version)


Many of my poems start as little tunes I come up with to a simple chordy background.

On January 12th I dedicated my book The Sketch of Sam Monroe to Terrence McKenna. I had no idea that Dennis McKenna would be on the Joe Rogan Experience today. Which happens to be the day when I finish part one of the book a work spanning months and being some hundred pages in length.

I’ll continue to post on Tuesday and Thursday. The book is free to read on my website http://www.fractaljournal.com Hope you enjoy my barbaric little song (i felt like celebrating with a rough draft release) thanks so much for stopping by.

Miles From October (The Poem)


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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.11 – Why this?

Image result for research vessel cabin


I was really confused. I thought that Graham had revealed an ancient apocalypse in his newly found and quite frankly annoyingly cryptic mode of communication.

He clapped when I’d mentioned Roland’s theories.

The rest of the meeting in that nautical conference room devolved into a guessing game. The presentation and certain factoids were meant to serve as clues. It was up to us to put the pieces together.

Graham knew. But I suppose that he was no longer ‘one of us’ at least not in the way that he had been before the incident.

I was looking at the picture now. Sam was a good artist and he’d really outdone himself.

Though I really couldn’t for the life of me understand what was so damned startling about it. It was really such a common idea. So much so that it might as well be some standard mandala. If you took out the photograph like precision of that pencil it could be some cheesy 80’s metal album. What with it featuring cryptic ruins, a big cat, and that favored hair metal metaphor: the jungle.

We were all psychedelic veterans, Graham being the most grizzled in that theater, so I also found the bad trip theory dubious. Then there was the permanent nature of the change that had taken hold of him since the seizure. The uncanniness continued to make itself apparent in how everything fell into place to make the trip to Cuiaba a reality.

Thornton’s hand in this also seemed heavy.

As I layed snugly in my bunk I wondered if we were more guinea pigs then pioneers. Was the goobery midwesterner feeding us ideas, guiding us subliminally towards some martial end that we would never accept save for the spook’s hypnotic art?

I understood that there was much strange in the world. Existence itself, however, you choose to interpret it is a grand mystery. I did not doubt the reality of those ruins or even the possibility of some kind of elusive metaphysic.

But, metaphysic and archeology can be interpreted in many ways. The conclusions drawn whether correct or not can often be twisted to dubious ends.

Towards what end were we twisting? Was it correct? Was it right? Why this rather than some other thing?

It was the return trip. We’d make port in San Cristobal within the span of two days and as I closed my eyes that night I vowed to spend them drinking in the Sun and rum.

Answers come when answers come.


This is the end of Part One!

If you go here:  The Cajun Prayer You’ll see that on January 12th I dedicated this book to Terrence McKenna.

When I got home with my pizza today Dennis McKenna was live on the Joe Rogan Podcast. I had no idea that he was coming on.

How very synchronous.



1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

3.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.8 – A Good Egg

3.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.9 – Oregon HillThe Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera_

3.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.10 – ‘Thick Bushes’

4.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.0 – No room at the Inn

4.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.1 – The Union Jack

4.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.2 – The Genevive

4.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.3 – Ecclesiastes 1:18

4.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.4 – Bleached

4.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.5 – Marty

4.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.6 – Highland Deep

4.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.7 – Sunshine

4.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.8 – What is it?

4.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera

4.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.10 – Father Crespi


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Miles from October (Poem)

 

Image result for row boat lost at sea
Image Source

 


I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

Baking in the southern air

Out here where the summers stare

One by one they are aligned

And their weapons are inclined

In morbid array

Pointing out the end of day

Day eh eh eh away o day

Where the waters no longer run

No prism is painted by the sun

I row – I row

I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

You sow

My sweet fictional tomorrow

You only beg and borrow

Time will show the circles full

As I row past

All Passing

Here there is no guessing

Where

I’m so terribly sober

Bone dry and miles from October

Well


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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.10 – Father Crespi

Image result for father crespi


Leo looked like a tourist. The straw hat, Hawaiian shirt, and khaki shorts were a far cry from his usual dapper self. It was a wardrobe that jarred comically with the doctor’s urbane mannerisms. Despite the Jimmy Buffet vibe, the impression of the tall Brazilian behind the podium remained one of elegance and poise.

“Does anyone known the man in this picture?” He asked as the Göbekli Tepe slide gave way to the grinning bearded visage of a monk in a habit.

Sam stood abruptly and gave a Roman salute. “Mein Fuhrer!”

Dr. Bohm smiled as he shook his head.

“So you’ve heard that bizarre theory?”

We had. We were all quite familiar with the Italian art collector smiling down at us.

“Ja. Warheit!” Sam said as he sat back down crossed his arms and lifted his chin in a very satisfied matter of fact way. Panning his head from side to side like it was Nuremberg 1933.

Leo sighed. “As a Brazilian anthropologist… with a German surname, you can imagine the emails.”

I laughed and took a swig of Sailor Jerry’s. Apparently, the Captain had a frat boys taste in liquor…either that or he was holding out.

“Yes, it is funny some of the time. But, it is also so sad….even if it were true the reality that was made evident in those Ecuadorian caves dwarfs that little proposition a hundredfold….”

I was still grinning like a Cheshire at the thought that the tantrum-prone little Austrian with the girlish hips and shoulders had seamlessly transformed into a Salesian friar. My smile belied my agreement.

The story goes that Father Carlos Crespi Croci was very loved by the Ecuadorian community he served. So much so that he was the very first person that got word of the strange artifacts the locals found in their caves. The motifs on the artifacts were bizarre and claimed by some to represent Mesopotamian scenes and symbols. The reason for the tales obscurity is due in large part to the fact that most of the collection wound up destroyed in a fire or in the hands of private collectors. What little remained is not accessible to the public. These inconveniences along with the implications that the purportedly near eastern artifacts held led to little save fringe discussions ultimately devolving into the ‘muh Hitler, muh Nazis’ meme.

My own familiarity with this obscurity had, of course, come from Ant.

“I’m serious…” Leo said looking at me. “You do not believe me?”

My grin must have been truly obnoxious.

“Nein.” I said jumping on Sam’s bandwagon. “Das ist nicht wahr….just look at ze skull…while ze broadness does suggest Nordic influence, it is too spheroid…und….ze eyebrows…do you not see a Semitic influence, that Turkic angularity…Ashkenazim…no zis is not the noble wolf…nicht…Das ist nich NICH NICHT NICHT!” I began yelling as I pounded the tumbler against the table.

Leo looked surprised. “You’re pretty well versed in the Reich.”

“Well of course, do you really think that Uncle Sam ignored the poison dwarf? Goebbels was the executor par excellence of Bernays little theories. Though the Bolshevik stuff is more interesting there is no vein of humor richer than the Propagandaministerium des NSDAP.”

“I see,” Leo replied. “Well, the bizarre is often funny as well as being a most effective over-ride for critical thinking. But..the bizarre is also often true…and as I said this real bizarreness…”

“Hate to cut you short Doc but I think I know what this is about.” The cigarette I’d stolen from Hoyt had made me hungry for nicotine. We’d already been listening to what was the pedantic buildup to a dramatic reveal for over an hour. And I already knew the end so I chimed in. “This thing we’ve just left behind, these Crespi trinkets, it’s all one grand civilization. We were all one until sunspots or meteors or whatever and you’re gonna take us from here to Brazil to show us the final grand proof that’s so central to our little project.”

The Captain laughed darkly somewhere behind me.

Leo held up his hand. “It’s alright…I’ll explain it…”

“I mean what else could it be? You showed us a sunken evacuation scene and then this Crespi business…”

“It was not an evacuation.”

“So it wasn’t sunspots that grounded those ancient shuttles?”

Leo shook his head.

I raised my arms palms up and shrugged. “Then what?”

“EMP’s and bullets.” Graham chimed in without a trace of humor in his voice.

At first, I was too stunned to laugh but after the initial shock had dissipated I laughed uproariously.

“Ok folks….”

Before I could finish the Captains deep baritone overwhelmed me.

“How is it that you account for Iraq in Ecuador?”

“Come again?” I said choking back my mirth as best I could.

“You say that you understand the single origin of civilization. Where is it?”

“I dunno Africa…Asia minor…”

“No.” Came the rumble from behind. “You think that the Sumerians landed here right…that’s how you account for Crespi am I correct.”

“Well, I suppose it’s only logical given…”

“Logic is merely an instrument. And one that only works if the initial premises are correct. You are not correct.”

“Well ok…then where…where did it all start?”

Leo held up his hand cutting off the Captain. “Everywhere…as you have shared before in our conversations…but everywhere must have a center…and that center is in what is now Brazil.”

I no longer needed a cigarette.


1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

3.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.8 – A Good Egg

3.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.9 – Oregon HillThe Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera_

3.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.10 – ‘Thick Bushes’

4.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.0 – No room at the Inn

4.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.1 – The Union Jack

4.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.2 – The Genevive

4.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.3 – Ecclesiastes 1:18

4.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.4 – Bleached

4.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.5 – Marty

4.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.6 – Highland Deep

4.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.7 – Sunshine

4.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.8 – What is it?

4.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera


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Murica Month | Party Spirit


George Washington did not seem to truly belong to any particular party and cautioned about ‘party spirit’ in his farewell address. Is a democratic republic possible without robust parties? Please share your thoughts below.

Note: Federalism is the balancing act between state and federal power. It’s basically how the U.S. functions. So when I contrasted state’s rights and federalism I misspoke. I think it’s still intelligible enough. 


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The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.9 – Thera

Image result for thorn letter


Before we had been whittled down to the delightfully sophomoric ‘Fibonacci Five’ there had been a sixth member.

Anthony was energy incarnate. That’s why he didn’t reenlist. Though perhaps ‘didn’t reenter a contract’ is a more accurate way of putting it since he (like Graham and Chuck) served in a civilian capacity.

Anthony Harris was an unemployed archeologist wielding a Ph.D. from Boston that had landed him the stellar position of serving Thornton coffee at some hipstery little number in a Jersey suburb.

While I do sympathize with economic realities I can’t really excuse Harris on this point. I know he could have found something. But the guy was and probably still is a mess. Aside from the ability to concentrate on things that capture his interest with unholy fervor he had little in the way of skills.

I really think that he put his nose to the academic grindstone simply to prove he had the chops. Like so many merry fools before he fancied that credentials and mastery of subject would propel him to a tenure that would let him play with ideas.

He was full of wild speculations. Wild speculations that he wasn’t shy to share.

Not even with the dubious likes of Thornton whose mustache hairs had an unpleasant way of dipping into a drink. It was especially gross when it was coffee. I wouldn’t have called the number on the big midwesterners business card for all the gold of Ophir. Our chief exuded the sort of fatherly gooberishness that made anarchy themed graffiti appealing even if you hated punk rock…Just to distance yourself from that unwholesomely contented malaise. No one should be that ok with the world.

But I suppose the goobery depths of Thornton’s company seemed less foreboding in contrast with the snarky sting of acerbic tongues lilting sarcastically in faculty lounges the world over.

You did not challenge convention. You taught what was taught to you. If you discovered something it had better be a discovery that falls well within established contexts. Otherwise, you’d end up like Carl Roland.

It was a profound testament to the nebbish narrowness of his interests that Ant had failed to notice the cautionary tale in the experience of his idol.

Dr. Roland was a pariah. At the time that Ant was hired the doctor was in court battling claims from a colleague that he’d falsified evidence. His name was not officially cleared till a year after Ant left to join him in Egypt. Unofficially the name was never cleared. Roland is a dirty word that causes many a titter at many a convention.

If Pangea was the urcontinent than Thera (the ‘th’ sounds like the Icelandic þ) was the urcivilization. In Roland’s conception, Thera, unlike Atlantis or Lemuria, was the grandfather of all cultures rather than some long dead uncannily gifted cousin.

The theory is immediately redolent of quackery but the trouble is that Dr. Roland is not a quack. At least not in the sense of credentials and achievements. Degrees from Yale and Brown adorn the walls of the California home he so rarely inhabits. Dozens of papers and several prominent and accepted discoveries regarding subjects that range from peat bog mummies to astrophysics bore the muddy moniker of Dr. Carl Hapgood Roland.

After Thornton had asked (in true goobery interest) if his waiter was a college student. That waiter informed him that he was, in fact, a graduate, and began regaling our blue-eyed devil with exultations of Dr. Roland and how the waiter’s barista funded research would vindicate the man.

Of course, Thornton’s interest was immediately peaked. So it was unsurprising that the rogue scholar read genuine approval in the pockmarked face. He served us many papers on psychoactive plants, Mesoamerican cultures, Descartes, etc. Never imagining that his earnest research was feeding a project with motives as cynical as P.L.AT.O.’s.

I don’t really know what explanation Thornton gave him. Though I don’t think a paycheck ten times ones former salary is a thing that makes one ask too many questions.

The impression I got from our rare face to face meeting with Ant was that he thought we were seeking to understand one of the military cults that had formed among cartels in Peru. Even if I had been allowed correcting him would shatter what little trust he had left in the goodness of his fellows.

It never felt good. And now…in a way, it felt like Roland was getting his revenge. Because in light of what I just saw the suggestion of solar flares and other celestial phenomenon bringing a very high point in human history to an abrupt close didn’t seem that far-fetched. All my eye rolling and ‘tsk tsk the poor ladding’ was now a big lump in my throat as I stared in astonishment at the spectral sardonic husk that was Graham Hoyt.


1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

2.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.3 – High Tech Summons

2.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.4 – Amazon Stonehenge

2.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.5 – Jung

2.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.6 – Dee

2.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.7 – Meeting 211

2.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.8 – Itinerary

2.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.9 – Fact and Fiction

2.10 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.10 -Kaffeeklatsch

2.11 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.11 – Catnap

2.12 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.12 – ‘One Pair’

2.13 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.13 – Reentry

2.14 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.14 – Phoenix

2.15 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.15 – Apollo and Dionysus

3.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.0 – Inherit the Wind

3.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.1 – Stardust

3.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.2 – Loyola

3.3 Chapter 3.3 – High and Dry

3.4 Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.4 – One Dream

3.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.5 – Pensive

3.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.6 – Feijoada

3.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.7 – ‘Good food and good work…’

3.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.8 – A Good Egg

3.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.9 – Oregon Hill

3.10 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 3.10 – ‘Thick Bushes’

4.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.0 – No room at the Inn

4.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.1 – The Union Jack

4.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.2 – The Genevive

4.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.3 – Ecclesiastes 1:18

4.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.4 – Bleached

4.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.5 – Marty

4.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.6 – Highland Deep

4.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.7 – Sunshine

4.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 4.8 – What is it?


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